When our family was in the Philippines for a week-long holiday in June 2005, I already suspected that I was pregnant. For one, my period was late. Then there were the unmistakable symptoms of nausea, dizziness and an unexplained aversion towards certain types of food.
The moment we got back to KL, I immediately made an appointment with my obstetrician-gynecologist, Dr. Z, just to get the pregnancy confirmed and for me to get started on prenatal vitamins, as well.
When the customary urine test came out positive, Dr. Z did a quick ultrasound scan to check the size of the fetus and determine my EDD (expected due date).
“Six weeks,” she proclaimed.
I looked at the tiny figure on the screen, then at the dark area surrounding it, which looked abnormally larger than usual. Could my uterus have expanded much faster than usual?
“Doctor, cuba tengok kalau ada satu lagi (Doctor, try to see if there’s another one.),” I told her in half-jest. We’re very good friends – Dr. Z and I – hence, I’ve always felt free to joke around with her. She has, after all, delivered OnlyGirl and RoundBoy, so it’s a friendship that spans a good 10 years.
This is a reconstruction of an SMS (text message) exchange that took place not too long ago between myself and one of our managers, whom I shall refer to as ‘A’:-
